


I want to remember...

by startswithhope



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Morning After, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:11:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: What if you wake up and can remember enough of what happened the night before to know that everything has changed, but still don’t know who made the first move? (just a little friends to lovers sexy times for your Saturday)





	

 

She wakes up to the usual sounds of squealing brakes followed by impatient horn blasts, security gates rattling in their journey upwards, murmurs of cell phone calls and the occasional bark of a too small dog. The noises of the city around her never seem to change, even on a morning that feels like it should be different. She presses at the base of her neck to see if the skin there is raised, fingertips tracing the same pattern as his lips, his tongue, the coarse hairs of his chin. Scrunching her eyes ever more tightly closed, she tries to add clarity to images threatening to disappear as consciousness fights with the fog of drunken mistakes.

Was it a mistake the way his mouth felt against hers, the weight of his hands on her skin or the possessive feel of his fingers anchored in her hair. Did he not mean the words he breathed between her lips between soul deep kisses?

_“Finally...I’ve always wanted...Emma…”_

She knows the truth of hers.

_“Me too…”_

Rolling to her back, she looks to the empty space on her bed, the impression of his head on the pillow the only proof he’d been there at all. Well, not really. There’s still the reality of her shirt somewhere on the floor and the red circle on her hip from where she’d slept on the button of her unzipped jeans. Her shirt, the deep red scoop neck she’d worn to try to catch her latest skip, is now splashed with rum and indented with the teeth marks of her best friend. Killian had been reading on the couch when she’d slammed back into their apartment, full of annoyance at a wasted night in uncomfortable heels. She remembers the offer of a drink, which turned into many. If only she could rewind to find out how it went from pounding shots to her legs wrapped around Killian’s waist as they stumbled into her room and onto her bed.

Did she kiss him first? Groaning, she grabs his pillow and covers her face, trying and failing to will the butterflies in her belly from swarming at the very vivid memory of his eyes as he dragged her shirt down over her breast with his teeth. He’d kept his intense blue gaze on her as his lips brushed her nipple over her bra, as if waiting for her permission, which she remembers readily giving. It gets a bit hazy again after that. The veil of alcohol providing only glimpses of her fingers clutching the dark hair covering the pale skin of his chest, his wrist moving against her belly as her hips arched up against his hand inside her jeans, the moistened redness of his bottom lip as it hovered over hers as she came.

Tossing the pillow off the bed, she forces herself to get out of bed before her hand finds it’s way into her jeans to relieve the pressure these memories have triggered. She can’t hear him moving about the apartment, so she assumes he’s either crashed out on his own bed or he’s not home. Part of her hopes that he’s left to give her some space to freak out. Another part, well, it’s not sure what to hope for anymore.

She tiptoes across the hall to the bathroom, cringing at the creak of the hinges as she shuts the door behind her. One look in the mirror has a blush burning up her neck and over her cheeks. From the absolute disarray of her hair to the pink skin of her chin rubbed raw from his beard, there’s no mistaking that she’s spent a good bit of time making out with Killian Jones. A full minute of gargling mouthwash follows that assessment as her fingers work her hair into a messy bun and wipe the smudges of yesterday’s eyeliner from beneath her eyes. She should really take a shower, but she’s not quite ready to wash the feeling of him from her skin.

That thought has her gripping the sink and taking a deep breath in through her nose.

It’s been hard enough being in love with her best friend for as long as she has. But now they’ve added kissing.... Or he did? Or was it her? Or was it just the rum?

_She’s never drinking again_.

After peeing and giving herself one last look in the mirror, she listens at the door for silence before making her way back into the hallway. It’s only as she sees Killian walking towards her from the kitchen with two cups of coffee, still without his shirt and in the same jeans as last night does it hit her that her shirt is still on her floor and she’s standing there in just her bra. She’s frozen on the hardwood, her eyes calculating the slight wariness of his expression hidden behind his otherwise confident approach.

“Good morning, love.”

He’s stopped right in front of her, a mug of coffee in each hand and a sleepy and questioning smile curving his equally swollen lips.

There’s no alcohol to blame this time as she takes a step forward, slightly trembling hands reaching up to hold his face steady as she finds his mouth for a soft kiss. His breath puffs out against her lips in surprise and she almost steps back until he steps forward and she swears she can feel relief in the way his mouth slants over hers to kiss her back. As his tongue sweeps past her lips, she groans at the taste of him, coffee and bacon and toothpaste and Killian. Her hands slide down his cheeks to his shoulders, pulling at him in an attempt to drag him closer.

“Wait, Swan...wait…”

His words are flustered, which makes her begin to question what she thought was happening here and she takes a step back. He’s done the same and is turning away from her towards the bathroom with the coffees she’d already forgotten he was holding. She can feel herself retreating back into her shell as he ducks inside, but he reemerges almost immediately with empty hands and the previous moment begins to fall back into place. In mere seconds, her back is against the wall and she’s on the verge of moaning into his mouth as he sets out to kiss her senseless.

Soon, it’s a replay of last night. His strong hands urge her legs up over his hips and she lets him carry her to her bed, her even stronger legs keeping him locked tight so he falls to the mattress with her. Their fingers wind together on the mattress as his hips begin to move, the firmness of him seeking and finding her softness with perfect accuracy. She wants this, she wants more, she wants things in this moment she’s been holding herself back from for entirely too long.

Before things move further, she needs to know.

“Who...last night, who…?

She loses her ability to speak for a second as he hits a spot that has her seeing stars. Her legs tighten around his waist as he lifts his head from her neck, his breath hot on her face as he looks down at her with half open eyes.

“What, love?”

“Last night, who kissed who first?”

His eyes fly open at her question and his body goes frustratingly still.

“You don’t remember?”

He looks somewhat hurt, so she frees one of her hands so she can cup his jaw, her thumb passing softly over his bottom lip as she looks up at him with a smile.

“Not all of it. I want to remember.”

“So you don’t regret it?”

Pressing down with her calves currently anchored over his ass, she lifts her eyebrow in the same way he often does when she says something slightly absurd.

“Does it look like I regret it?”

That earns her a chuckle as his fingers still holding her other hand give a hard squeeze.

“You did, love. You grabbed me by my lapels and kissed me and…”

That’s all she needed to know. Lifting her head, she cuts him off with her lips. He doesn’t resist as she urges him to roll over onto his back, just as she doesn’t resist as his fingers deftly release the clasp of her bra. Her body shudders against him as he runs his knuckles down her breasts and over her nipples, continuing further south over her ribs and along her belly. As his fingers curl into the waistband of her jeans, she falls forward, needing his mouth and to feel her breasts crushed against the soft hairs of his chest. He feels so perfect, warm and solid and she lets him work the button of her jeans free so he can get enough room to slide his hands inside her jeans to cup her ass and hold her down as he pushes up beneath her with his hips. Gasping against his mouth, she closes her eyes as warmth pools and her body starts to clamp down in search of release.

“Oh fuck…”

“Are you close?”

“God...yes…”

She has to catch her breath as Killian unceremoniously maneuvers them again so she’s on her back. His mouth is on hers in a desperate kiss that ends too quickly, leaving her brain in a state of needing to catch up as his mouth moves down to the skin between her breasts. It’s only as she feels his hands pulling her jeans from her hips does she realize he’s now kneeling between her open legs. His pupils are blown wide and his hair is a mess from her fingers and he’s looking at her with such heat that sweat begins to gather along her temples.

Knowing immediately his intention, she lifts her hips and his hands scramble to push down the denim, only getting it halfway down her thighs. His head lowers and she nearly screams at the first touch of his lips where’s she’s already throbbing. She comes embarrassingly quickly with one hand buried in his hair and the other gripping the pillow by her head with such force her fingers begin to cramp in protest. When he moves back up her body to kiss her, she doesn’t care that she can taste herself on his tongue, or that they end up laughing against each other’s mouths as she tries to kick her stupid jeans the rest of the way off her legs.

Laughs turn back into moans as her hands work between them to begin to work at zipper. He’s of little help, as he seems to be struggling to hold himself together from the moment her hand palms him over the cotton of his boxer briefs. Pushing him over onto his side, she catches his lips in a kiss as she presses a leg between his knees and her hand takes his finally free cock in her palm and begins to stroke. His hips pulse forward towards her hand and she increases the pressure, her own body beginning to tremble again with need at the sounds her touch is releasing from his throat.

“Emma...can’t believe… oh fuck…”

She watches as his head falls back as he spends against her wrist, his hand at her waist gripping hard as she uses his slickness to work him to an even longer release. It’s no surprise that she finds herself on her back again with him poised between her open thighs, his mouth hot on hers as he slides the tip of his still pulsing cock against her slick center.

“Want to be inside you so bad, Emma.”

She’s of the exact same mind and lets him know with a lift of her hips and whispered “yes” against his lips. Condoms would be good idea right about now, but she’s on the pill and she trusts that he’s clean and she’s never needed anything more than this in her entire life. He’s not as hard as he was before, but she’s so ready for him that he slides in easily, both of them groaning with a feeling of completion once he’s nestled in deep.

“God Emma, you’re perfect...I…”

“Just kiss me…”

He does, but with such reverence and care that she feels like she’s unraveling from the inside out. When he starts to move his hips in a gentle rhythm she follows, digging her heels into the back of his calves to keep her legs from falling. The weight of him pressing her into the mattress is like an anchor, keeping everything she’s feeling in this moment centered and present. Sex for her before now has been somewhat perfunctory, a need for release, distraction, an itch scratched and forgotten. But this, with Killian, this is more than sex. It’s so much more that she feels a need to move things along before she can start to question it or freak out. He must sense where her thoughts have gone, because his hips begin to move a bit faster.

“Stay with me, love.”

“I’m here. Don’t stop…”

“Never.”

She tries to breathe as he takes her mouth in a hurried kiss, her legs lifting high over his hips as he crashes down, down, deeper and deeper. It feels like every muscle in her body is contracting as she comes, gripping him hard and giving him no choice but to fall with her. She clings to his back when he collapses, not letting him roll to the side to alleviate the pressure. Between heavy breaths he places kisses along her cheek, at the corner of her mouth and atop her nose as her fingers slide into the sweaty mess of his hair at the back of his head.

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

As he leans up on his forearm and his body shifts inside of her, she can’t hold back a pleasure filled sigh. It takes her a second to refocus and look up at the somewhat serious expression on his face as he looks down at her beneath his ridiculously long eyelashes.

“I really don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“Neither do I. And if I thought we were up for it, I’d prove it to you right now.”

She nearly laughs aloud at as his face shifts from relief to surprise to happiness and now, something in between playful and mischievous.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can handle it. But perhaps you need a breather, Swan?”

She does, if she’s being honest. And coffee, she needs that, too.

It’s only about ten minutes later that she ends up proving it to him with their half empty mugs sitting next to her ass on the bathroom counter, her belly full of cold coffee and a very much up for the challenge Killian Jones between her thighs.


End file.
